


it’s a headshot (induced shag)

by cloudburst



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: M/M, bc he’s a moron in love, but it’s mac bein like “he’s gonna die”, my male ss ain’t actually in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 05:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13606215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudburst/pseuds/cloudburst
Summary: MacCready is worried about Daniel, even though heisthe most stubborn man in the world.So he chooses to wallow. Cait doesn’t like wallowers.





	it’s a headshot (induced shag)

**Author's Note:**

> daniel (my m!ss) ain’t actually in this it’s maccready being emo abt him and cait being like ,,, bro ,,, stop it

He knows it’s ridiculous, but he can’t help himself—can’t help the worry that festers like an infected wound, eating at him, threatening to consume him. He knows it’s ridiculous, but he’s still worried about the vault dweller who sprang from 111 without so much as a single care for the dangers the outside world would hold. MacCready is worried for the most stubborn man in the world. And boy, if that isn’t a thought to keep him up at night. 

Daniel had asked him to remain in Sanctuary, _Sanctuary Hills_ he’d said, to help the settlers make the transition into actually defending themselves: that is, as opposed to wishing for Daniel at their beck and call every time so much as a Radroach rolled up on them. Apparently Radroaches were threatening the way of life these days. MacCready couldn’t stand it, still can’t stand it the few hours after Daniel has left, but he’d agreed anyways, out of some sense of obligation to his quasi-boss and the man he loves. It’s funny to think that they are one and the same—comical, even. God, Daniel has MacCready wrapped around his finger. It wasn’t without a fight, of course, that he became so entangled in Daniel—but at this point, there’s nothing MacCready can do about it, and nothing he really wants done either. So he relents, and supposes that Daniel isn’t the only stubborn one between the two of them. 

He sighs, leaning against the dilapidated, radiation worn house that once passed for a home. Momentarily he allows himself to think: this could have been the life Daniel had. And if MacCready had been born 200 and some odd years earlier, it could have been the life they’d had together, before the bombs dropped and the world went to sh—crap. Wasn’t that a thought? 

Daniel, comes home from whatever job he’d been doing following his discharge, greets MacCready as he walks through the door—their domestic robot, maybe it’s Percy from Diamond City Surplus, turns from them as Daniel wraps his arms around MacCready’s waist. He leans down to kiss him. Then the bombs drop. It’s all very quaint, even as the mushroom cloud tears away his fantasy, till all that’s left is the present. 

MacCready spits, and chooses not to dwell on it with Marcy glaring at him in disgust. She passes by him to enter the ruined pre-war structure, MacCready having forgotten that it houses the knock off bar Daniel had built for the people of Sanctuary. MacCready supposes it passes for more of a pub every day—neon lights, liquor sign, soft music playing in the background, with squishy seats and good company. Yeah, Daniel did alright. 

He walks in, and finds himself in the corner with two shots of whiskey. He may down them both in one go, but that’s for him to know and apparently for Cait to find out as she saunters toward him. It takes MacCready a moment to realize the heavily accented voice is speaking to him until she’s repeated herself twice, and by then she’s looking Cait levels of indignant. 

“Oi, MacCready, what’s got ya lookin’ so doown?” 

He huffs, and despite his better judgment, responds truthfully. Maybe not drinking while on the road with Daniel had impacted his alcohol tolerance more than he’d thought. “Worried. About Daniel.” 

Cait nods her head, and it appears she’s very seriously considering her response—the fire in her hair the equivalent of the burning in her eyes as she speaks, the bottle of moonshine in hand a testament to that. MacCready supposes her throat is aflame as well. “I guess I get ya MacCready, but ya know yer man is safe. He’s with Piper, and,” A pause. “Ya ever seen Daniel fight?”

MacCready opens his mouth to respond, that _yes, of course he has_ , but Cait cuts him off—shaking her head, bangs falling across her eyes, the stench of moonshine on her breath. “Yea, yea, of course ya have! So ya know how impressive he is. I never met a man I got so much respect for. Watchin’ him fight is like some outta body experience, yer there and Daniel’s on a whole diff’rent level. Watched him kill four ferals inna row once. Like Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!” She shouts off the words in rapid succession, to mimic Daniel’s revolver and that’s okay, until people stare—until Jun Long looks mortified in the opposite corner. MacCready laughs at her.

“Cait—“

“Don’t let yer love for our vault dweller make ya stupid, MacCready.” 

He sighs, laughter immediately forgotten as he nods his head at the woman who has taken the stool across from him. He knows she cares, at least for Daniel, and perhaps that’s why it’s so hard to hear. 

He hears Daniel, mocking him. _You’re so stubborn, RJ._ And MacCready knows he’d scoff back: _Me? Stubborn? I’m an angel compared to you._

“I see where you’re coming from, but—“

Cait interjects, right before finishing the remainder of her bottle. MacCready probably cringes; for his dignity, Cait pretends that she doesn’t see. “No buts, MacCready. Ya know, I’m not one fer romance, but watching Daniel take out ferals one headshot at a time can make any girl ready for a shag right then and there. ‘Cept me, but I got Piper for that.”

“Jesus, Cait.” The corners of MacCready’s lips turn down, the song in the background shifting as Travis’ voice announces Skeeter Davis. 

“It’s the honest ta god truth, MacCready. Ya love him, ya gotta trust his abilities.” Again, MacCready goes to speak; he’s being argumentative, thinks it’s the booze. Cait cuts him off like it’s her birthright, and yeah, maybe it is. He wouldn’t know. “Daniel is always going ta be the way he is. He’s a big softie yea? But ya know he is dead set on sortin’ his shit out. ‘Specially with his son being all old and it. I’m not one ta reassure us’lly, but Daniel also isn’t gon’ ta just die without ya, MacCready. He isn’t gonna die till he’s good n’ ready.” 

MacCready nods. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Look, he was born over 200 years ago. Ya really think he’s gon’ ta be killed by some feral without the decency ta die?” MacCready can hear the laughter in her voice, the near mocking tone. But he’s never been more grateful to Cait. 

Once again, he responds truthfully. “No.”

“Exactly!” She punches him in the shoulder—probably a little harder than necessary, but he’ll take it. 

And for just a moment, the alcohol induced haze washing over him, he sees the world before the bombs dropped. 

Then, he closes his eyes, and sees Daniel—no context. It could be the Wasteland, Diamond City, pre-war, or the Glowing Sea for god’s sake. All he knows, in that dizzy moment, is that he’s home.

**Author's Note:**

> lemme know what ya thank and feel, talk to me on twitter @vauitboi


End file.
